Trick Questions
by PrincessVictory
Summary: Max's mom is making them practice for the upcoming Scholars' Bowl competition, but the little brainiac is really starting to get on Misty's last nerve. After kicking him out, she finds herself alone with the person she most and least wanted to be with: Ash Ketchum, fellow Scholars' Bowl member and high school crush. Will the secret finally come out? One-shot Pokeshipping :)


**A/N: Here's to my latest one-shot! Sorry I took so long; kind of been a busy time of the year for our wonderful family of nine! :) Kind of different, I know, but my crush and I just so happen to be on the same Scholars' Bowl Team this year and it made me wonder what if…? Anyways, hope you like my story, and please don't forget to R & R! :D Merry Christmas!**

"Mary Tudor I!" I exclaim as soon as the buzzer goes off.

"Misty! It's not that! It's 'Bloody Mary'!" Ash retorts. I sigh, wondering not for the first time how on earth Ash made the Scholars' Bowl Team. _Oh yeah, because no one else signed up, _I remind myself.

"No, Ash, you're wrong," I point out, running my fingers through my fiery red hair.

"Am not!" I roll my eyes. How clueless could he get?

"Ash—"

"Actually," Max cuts in, "both of you are talking about the same person."

"So we're both right?" I ask, looking down at him quizzically.

"Nope. Completely wrong. The correct answer is Mary Queen of Scots, or Mary Stuart. _She_ ruled Scotland during the first part of Elizabeth Tudor's reign." Leave it to the brainiac to prove us both wrong.

"Great," I groan, putting my head down on my bed. Can I really stand another half hour of this torture? I can handle Max, but Ash is anything _but_ scholarly. "What's the next question?"

"You ready? 'This woman is best known as the author of _Frankenstein_ and the _Modern Promethus.'" Bzzt._ "Ash?" Max asks, looking over at him expectantly.

"Uh…Mary?" I sigh.

"Could you be more specific maybe?"

"Mary…Wollstonecraft?"

"Close, but incorrect."

"It's Mary Wollstonecraft _Shelley_, dork," I mutter. "Mary Wollstonecraft was her mother."

"Jeez, why are there so many Marys?!" Ash exclaims, throwing his hands on the bed. "Why couldn't there be some Mistys and Mays and Dawns and Irises? I could figure out those names."

"Only because you know people with those names," I comment dryly. "Next question?"

"'This 1897 novel by H. G. Wells is about a man who has turned himself invisible and is slowly being driven insane." _Beep._ "Misty?"

"_Invisible Man."_

"Again, so close, but it's wrong without the article 'the' in its name."

"And why's that?" Ash asks, raising an eyebrow. "Don't we normally leave off articles in Scholars' Bowl questions?" So he read the rules; how surprising.

"Normally," Max answers. "But leaving off 'the' in this case is too ambiguous. There's another book _just_ titled _Invisible Man_ from 1952 by Ralph Ellison, so without the correct article it's wrong." Stupid brainiac. He always had to be right, didn't he?

I groan again. "Can we have a question that isn't so tricky now?" Max shuffles through the cards, hopefully looking for an easier question to read off to us.

"'This president, the sixth of the United States—" _Bzzt._

"John Adams," Ash answers confidently. _Well, he finally got something—_

"Incorrect."

"What?!" I shriek, glowering down at the genius kid. I'm _so_ ready to kick him out of my house. "How is that wrong?!"

"Misty, John Adams was his dad. John _Quincy _Adams is more correct. Even just 'Adams' would've been acceptable."

"Says _who?"_ I ask, narrowing my eyes as him.

"Says the NAQT rules," he replies, pointing at the rulebook on my bookshelf. The rulebook I'm _supposed_ to read. Which I have. Kind of.

"Stupid rulebook," I mutter, crossing my arms.

"Ready for the next question, Mist?" Max asks, annoying me further by using _Ash's_ nickname for me.

"Mist-_y,"_ I correct, rolling my eyes. "And no, not really. Think we can call it a day?"

"Well, we're supposed to—"

"Yeah, Max, I'm beat. Another practice tomorrow maybe?"

"I guess so…" he mumbles, reorganizing the toss-up questions before boxing them back up.

"And do me a favor. Would you leave out all the trick questions next time?" I wonder, getting the buzzers and handing them to him.

"I can't help that, Misty," he answers, readjusting his thick black glasses. "All these questions are randomized according to—"

"Please?" I add, giving him my best I'll-kill-you-if-you-don't look.

"How charming." He picks up the two boxes and turns for the door. "I'll see what I can do, Misty. Maybe Mom will give me more questions to work with you on. See you guys later."

He walks out of the room, and the next thing I know, Ash and I are alone. Daisy has a doctor's appointment, Lily's at the grocery store, and Violet's running the desk at the Water Show Stadium. Completely alone. "Well, I guess I should get going too, Mist. I'll, uh, see you around," Ash says, putting his jacket on and readjusting his hat.

"Don't," I answer, involuntarily reaching out to grab his arm. He raises an eyebrow at me. "I-I mean, you don't have to, if you don't want to," I sputter out, attempting to cover up my major _faux pas._

"Well," Ash considers, staring up at the ceiling. "Mom won't be home for another hour anyway. Might as well stay for a while longer." He shrugs off his coat, tossing it back on my bed.

"Great," I mutter, "Want some hot chocolate?" Ash nods, smiling.

"Sure. Perfect for cold weather like this anyhow." I head to the kitchen, leaving Ash in my room to wait. As soon as I open the cabinet, I realize my next big mistake: all of my stuff is in there _with_ him. Every notebook, every scratch sheet, every sketch; even the notes Iris and I pass each other in class.

Notes with _his_ name scrawled all over them. I start to panic, but realize he'll get suspicious if I come back up without any hot chocolate. I find the box and begin searching for the marshmallows. After uncovering them, I start boiling the water and get two glass mugs to drink from. When the water's ready, I pour it in the mugs and mix in the chocolate, sprinkling marshmallows on top and finishing up by throwing in cinnamon sticks for straws.

I carry them to the room carefully, hoping against hope I don't spill them on the carpet. Or on me. I lightly kick open the door, saying, "Hot chocolate's ready!" just to find Ash going through one of my sketch pads.

I set down my mug, still grasping his tightly in my hand. "Oh. So soon?" he asks, hiding the book behind his back and pretending like he didn't see it. "Wow, that looks great, Mist." He grabs for the mug, but I slap his hand away.

"What was that for?" he wonders, rubbing it against his pants leg.

"Who gave you permission to go through my stuff?" I growl through clenched teeth.

"I didn't, Mist; I swear," he answers, holding up his free hand in surrender.

"Then what is _this?"_ I retort, grabbing my sketch book from behind his back and holding it up for him to see.

"I-I saw it on the desk, and it, well, I…" he trails off, unable to think of a single excuse that can get him out of it this time.

"Save it, Ash. Get out of my room," I state, pointing at the door with my sketch book.

"But—"

"Ash! Out!" I exclaim as he rolls his eyes and goes to get his coat.

"Can I at least have my hot chocolate?" I narrow my eyes at him. "No? Oh well, what a waste. See you later then, Misty." He goes to the door, stopping one last time with his hand on the knob and glancing back at me.

"You know, you could've just _told_ me how you felt, Mist," he smirks playfully before slipping out the door.

"Ash Ketchum!" I scream, dropping my book and chasing him down the hallway toward the front door. I catch up to him and grab him by the arm before he can shut the door behind himself. "Not so fast."

"What? Is the Tomboy Mermaid Misty scared I'm gonna give her little secret away? It's not like you haven't already told Iris. Or May. Or Dawn. Or even Brock."

I glare at him, and without even thinking about it, I pour the hot chocolate on his head, cinnamon stick and all. Lucky it cooled off beforehand or he'd be screaming his head off by now. "Don't you think for one second I didn't want to tell you, Ash Ketchum! Gah, all I thought about night and day was how I was finally going to admit how I felt! But I always chickened out in the end. You and your oblivious self certainly weren't making things any easier! Why didn't _I_ say anything? Great question. Why didn't _you_ say anything, Ash?"

"I—"

"You know what? Don't even bother. Just go, Ash. Leave me with some shred of happiness."

"Misty—"

"I said go!" I scream, letting his arm go and slamming the door shut in his face.

"Misty! Don't leave me out here like this! What if I freeze?" he asks, banging on the door. "I don't think your sisters will appreciate an Icicle Ash out on their front lawn."

"So what? Go home, Ash. You know, where your mom and Pikachu are probably waiting for you?"

"Misty! Please! Can't you let me in for a minute? I promise I'll leave if you will!" I consider it for a moment, wondering what in the world he wants back in for. "I left my backpack," he adds, answering my unasked question.

"Fine," I finally answer, unlocking the door and slowly opening it up. "One minute." Then I realize he has his backpack on. "Wait, what—" But I never get to finish my question.

His lips gently press against mine, making me instantly forget whatever I'm about to say. When he pulls away, he takes a wary look at me before asking, "Can I come in now?" I'm too shocked to give a verbal response, so I nod my head dumbly as he makes his way inside and shuts the door, locking out the elements and leaving us alone once again. "Look, Misty; I never meant to make you mad. I just got curious. I'm sorry," he frowns, looking down at me with his dark chocolate eyes.

"Sorry for what?" I ask blankly, my mind still whirring from the kiss he gave me. Then I remember. "Oh. That." I shake my head, as if doing so will uncloud my cluttered head and let me give a decent answer. "Don't worry about it. What's done is done."

"You sure? You seemed pretty upset about it when you were gonna leave me to become the Abominable Pokémon Trainer almost two seconds ago," he smirks.

"Well, that was before…" I trail off, losing my speech again. _Before the kiss._ "Just…don't push it, Ash. I'm letting you in. Isn't that good enough?"

"Not quite, Mist. But I can fix that, real quick," he answers, wrapping me into his warm embrace and letting his lips meet mine once again.

**A/N: For those of you who care to wonder, I own Pokémon about as much as I own Ash's Pikachu -_- Do stuffed ones count? I wish! :P**

**Also, I'm working on a new one-shot that should be up soon. It's going to be about the Sandy Hook shooting that happened recently and the idea came from Apheleia's story on the shooting, titled **_**Melancholic Roses**_**. I'm hoping to have it up soon, and just so you know, it will also be a Pokéshipping fic! :) **


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